Dopplebanger (Meet-Cute #5)

Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

“Oh, holy crappers,” Gwen said, which wasn’t a saying I’d heard before. I’d held the door open for an elderly couple who’d been going into the 7-11 as we’d been coming out, and in the five seconds I’d taken my eyes off her, something must’ve gone wrong.

A giant fountain drink and a slew of other snacks filled her hands, enough sugar and caffeine to give me diabetes and shift her chatter into turbo mode, and admittedly, I couldn’t wait for it to kick in. Her gaze was fixed on a spot on the ground, and a closer look revealed the sunglasses she’d had on earlier, now on the ground and twisted at a funny angle, the lenses in pieces on the sidewalk.

She gave me this half grimace, half sheepish smile. “I chose to save the food.”

I placed my hand on her back. “Well, you did warn me food was your priority.”

“I’d forgotten that I’d pushed my sunglasses onto the top of my head and when I looked down so I wouldn’t trip, they slipped off and crumpled like they were made of glass.”

“They are made of glass.”

She cocked her head. “The frames aren’t, and they broke, too.” She shifted the snacks in her arms and frowned down at the ground again. “I’m going to need a pair of shades for the next few hours, though, so maybe I chose wrong.”

I took the assorted goodies out of her hands, put them in the car, and then reached for her soda.

She took a long pull and then handed it over. As soon as I settled it in the cup holder, I

grabbed her hand and tugged her back toward the double doors of the convenience store. “Looks like we’re going back in.”

She glanced around and lowered her voice. “We’ll get made for sure.”

I played along, leaning in conspiratorially. “Not if we find the right pair of shades.”

The air-conditioned breeze hit us as we walked back inside, and goosebumps broke out across Gwen’s arms. I rubbed my hands up and down them, attempting to warm her up. “Need me to run back and get my hoodie?”

“I can make it. I’ll just grab the first pair of shades I see and then we’ll be back on the road.” She slowed before the tower of eyewear. “Whoa, check these out. These are like the-nursing-home-special sunglasses.” She slipped them on and turned to me.

They were huge and ugly, and yet, she still looked cute in them. “You said you were getting the first pair you grabbed, so I hope you enjoy your choice.” I teasingly tugged her toward the cash register.

“No, wait! I changed my mind. A girl’s allowed to change her mind now and then.”

She plopped the discarded glasses on my face and then reached for another pair—old school Terminator shades. “Do I look like a badass now?”

I lifted the sunglasses off my head, taking in her huge, dimpled smile without the obscuring dark lenses. “Not with that grin. You need to work on your intimidation skills to pull off badass.”

She tried to wipe it from her lips and add some intimidation to her expression. “If you don’t do what I say…” The corners of her mouth trembled. “I will talk you to death. You’ll break, trust me.”

“Nope. Not scary enough—the face or the threat.”

“Fine.” The next thing I knew, another pair of sunglasses had been placed on my face. I turned to the strip of mirror that separated the rows. Bedazzled cat-eye glasses. Of course.

“Hot,” she said.

“I’m going to buy them now, and then you’ll have to look at me in them for the rest of the trip. I hope you’re happy.”

Her laugh spilled out, loud and full, causing several people to glance at us. The happiness she radiated spread to them, until they were all chuckling, too.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “They’re laughing with you.”

I pointed at the unamused expression I’d plastered on my face, although with the jeweled eyewear, I doubt it was very effective. “I’m not laughing.”

“Then you should. Don’t make it awkward.”

My serious facade cracked as a snicker slipped out, and I removed the blingy shades and put them on her.

She waggled her eyebrows. “Yes? No?” Before I could answer, she exchanged them for a pair of aviators. “Who am I?” She dropped her voice a few octaves. “Don’t save your EpiPen or I’ll drag you into the ER. I’m scared of plummeting to my death, yet I approve of deathtrap carnival rides.”

Who knew you could have so much fun at a gas station? “I don’t know, but you sound like a super smart, upstanding gentleman to me.”

She snort-laughed, and I forced myself to keep the smile on my face. It was a good thing I was going to do the defending instead of the defendanting. Not that that was even a word, but if I was even a little guilty, I’d either confess or go out of my mind. When she’d jokingly called me a liar, liar, pants on fire and said the thing about taking advantage of my gullible girlfriend this morning, it sliced deep.

I was lying. Taking advantage, although I wouldn’t consider her gullible. Every time I wanted to just be in the moment, the extent of the web I’d spun wrapped another sticky strand around me. Soon, I’d be in even deeper.

But we were halfway to our destination and I was her ride. What was I supposed to do? Confess and leave us both miserable and/or stranded?

Not that I truly wanted to confess early, because I wanted to hold on to these moments before they were gone. I wanted to know more about her, too, but every time I asked a question, I worried I should know the answer.

What a fucking mess.

I’d blame my brother, yet I was the one here, and more than that, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

I repeat, what a fucking mess.

Hazel eyes appeared as Gwen dipped her chin. “But in all seriousness, I do appreciate that you care so much about my allergy. Less appreciative of the deathtraps, but I guess no one’s perfect.”

She was. At this point, I’d almost like to see a flaw—one besides trusting me. The lump of guilt in my gut turned to solid rock, but since it’d only make her sad if I went back to the sulky dude I’d been all morning, I shoved it away. I reached past her, retrieved a pair of hot pink sunglasses, and gently slipped them on her nose. “Try these. They’ll match your toenail polish.”

As far as I was concerned, they were the ones. Gwen studied her reflection, then spun on her heel and planted her lips on mine. I wrapped my hands around her hips and pulled her closer, adding a gentle bite to her full bottom lip, and then soothing the spot with a swipe of my tongue.

This was the real reason I was going to keep up the ruse, asshole move or not. Since she’d repeatedly remarked about how things were so different these past few days, I reasoned that she felt the same pull I did and used that to justify kissing her. Touching her. Wanting to take her to somewhere we could be alone and I could follow through on my promise to make her remember every single minute.

Apparently, I was a better at arguing my own case than I thought.